


Extracurricular Love

by TheBeautifulLove



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Student Jeno, Swearing, Teacher Doyoung, Teacher-Student Relationship, a break in my markhyuck writings, i guess, idk - Freeform, meeting after 3 years, only a little though, past teacher-student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeautifulLove/pseuds/TheBeautifulLove
Summary: ‘Mr. Kim?’He looks at his student, takes in the slightly too long hair that screams for a haircut yet looks so adorable on him. ‘Yes, Jeno?’‘Have you ever been in love?’ He doesn’t expect the question but he’s not shocked by it either. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry and his mind only comes up with images of the boy that is currently staring right at him, awaiting an answer.





	Extracurricular Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!   
> Firstly, I took a break from writing my multiple markhyuck fics  
> to write this, hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Secondly, speaking of markhyuck, thank you for the  
> incredible amount of kudos, hits and comments on my   
> previous markhyuck fic (i only ever got this amount once before,  
> so wow thank you so much). 
> 
> Lastly, most of you probably know but: 'seonsaeng-nim' means teacher in Korean -  
> it's used a multiple times in the story, so just to make sure everyone is clear. Also,  
> I call Doyoung by Doyoung not his real name but hope it's ok and I call him a lot of   
> other titles like 'sir' and 'Mr. Kim' here so hope that's ok too.   
> I love the teacher-student trait, so I wrote it in my own style, hope you like it.
> 
> Kudos and comments are beautiful and appreciated as always! xx

He thinks he hears a familiar sound, a familiar voice to be exact but it’s vague, it rings just the tiniest of bells in his head, so he only stops for a moment and when he’s sure he doesn’t remember where he might know it from, he turns back to the book in his hands. 

The library is almost deserted, as one might expect it to be on the New Year’s Day. It was a surprise that this one was even open in the first place while most shops are closed until tomorrow. But he needed to get out of the house and with his never-ending thirst for knowledge and love for learning, it’s just natural his legs took him to a library out of all places. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there, flipping through pages, completely unaware of the outside world but it must have been a while because when the friendly librarian taps his shoulder, he notices a pile of books he’s gone through already on the floor, next to him, waiting.

‘We’re closing soon, sir.’ She prompts in a gentle voice. 

‘Already?’ He asks, still waking from his daze. 

She smiles at him, nodding patiently. ‘It’s the first of January, we’re open only until 2pm.’ 

‘Ah, of course.’ He quickly gathers the books from the floor and looks down at his watch. He has ten more minutes. ‘Can I still borrow these books?’ 

‘Sure. I’ll be back at the front desk in a minute, I think there might be one more person here.’ She’s already walking away, looking around the corner for the other customer. 

He wants to tell her she’s heading in the wrong direction, remembering the voice from before to his right, in the language learning section but she’s already gone before he can open his mouth. So, instead, he looks down at the books again, excited and deeply comforted by the idea of spending the evening with a cup of green tea, immersed in the new literature. 

Voices reach his ears as he’s about to head to the front desk. Seems the librarian has found the other person. Her warm voice reminds them of the closing hours, the same way it did to him just a while earlier and the same, oddly familiar, deep yet youthful voice answers.

Now, he’s curious. He knows that voice, he’s sure, but he simply can’t remember, no matter how much he tries. After a moment, he gives up again. It’s probably one of his students; there are just too many of them in the three classes he currently teaches, to match a voice to a face instantly. Even harder to match the said voice or a face to a name. 

He walks slowly to the still empty front desk and places his heavy tomes on top of it, giving his hands a rest.  _If it’s heavy, it must be worth reading_ , he used to tell his high school students, with a sympathetic smile, who used to complain about having to carry thick books in their backpacks every single day. He truly felt sorry for them, recalling the not too-faraway days when he too, had to go through that hell, yet there wasn’t much else he could do or say. He, unfortunately, was not the one making up the rules. 

‘I’m sorry for the wait. I’m back!’ A little breathless, the young lady appears at her rightful place, glancing at the large clock on the wall showing three minutes until closing time. 

As she picks up the first book to scan, he suddenly wonders what happened to the other customer that was here before. Did he leave? He turns around in interest, and not too far behind him, in the tiny queue consisting of just the two of them, a young boy with a few, medium-sized books in his hands, is waiting for his turn at the desk. 

‘Kim-ssi,  _seonsaeng-nim_!’ He exclaims as soon as the older turns around, wearing a mildly surprised yet sweet smile that instantly brings a flood of memories.

It is his student indeed, as he suspected it might be. Or rather a past student he hasn’t seen for a few, long years. The older matches the sweet voice and the incredibly handsome face to the name instantly. Of course, he does. How could he forget? 

Doyoung just stands there, arms loosely hanging by his sides and mouth slightly open, yet unknowing what to reply. That boy has always had that strange ability to leave him standing still, speechless and slightly overwhelmed with just a single word.

Thankfully, his manners are automatic, they take over quickly like an auto-pilot, for what he’s thankful. ‘Oh, Jeno, hello.’ He utters, eyes wide, taking in the boy before him. More like a  _man_  now, rather than the child he was three years ago, his mind supplies.  

‘Can I have your library card, sir?’ 

He’s glad for the interruption, turning around somewhat slowly, he breathes a tiny relieved breath and pulls out the red card from his wallet, handing it to the woman. 

She thanks him, asks to visit again soon and he takes the paper bag in which she conveniently put his books in for him. He nods, thanks her in return too but hesitates before leaving, glancing back at Jeno. 

‘Could you wait a moment for me, sir? I have a question, if you don’t mind?’ He asks in a bright voice and Doyoung finds himself nodding even before the boy’s finished speaking. 

He waits, shifting his gaze to the books the younger is checking out. Mostly textbooks for learning English, two thin cookbooks, advertising incredibly easy recipes that even the worst of cooks could master on the front cover, and lastly, a self-help book on how to “deal with a break-up and move onto greater, bigger things”. 

Doyoung looks down to the floor, watching the small white stars on the blue carpet, wondering what the particular choice of literature could mean. A break up? Could it be so obvious? Are those books even for Jeno? Maybe a friend has asked, maybe... 

The boy in question stands before him with a small smile on his lips, not the full smile he had the chance to see many times before but still a beautiful, delicate, perhaps slightly shy smile. 

‘Ready to go?’ Doyoung hears himself ask and pride spreads in his chest when he notices he’s somehow managed to sound confident and sure of himself, anything but how he really feels inside. 

‘Yes.’ Jeno looks to the exit briefly then back up at Doyoung. ‘I know a coffee shop nearby that should be open today, would you have time to sit with me for a minute, seonsaeng-nim?’ 

It shouldn’t be so easy. 

After few long years and all the history they share, it should take much more than a single question, a single smile... but that’s all it takes. Three years or a day, it seems nothing has changed. Or maybe Doyoung hasn’t changed at all; Jeno still has that effect on him and now, knowing he’s all grown up like that, makes it even more difficult to resist. 

He agrees and they head outside, into the cold, putting on hats and gloves and zipping up their jackets, shielding themselves from the wind and snow. 

‘You know, I’m not your teacher anymore, Jeno, you don’t need to call me that.’ Doyoung suggests as they walk to the café. He doesn’t look the younger in the eyes, nervous about his reply. 

‘That’s true. You’re not anymore.’ It’s silent for a moment before Jeno continues. ‘I’m not your student, you’re not my teacher... yet we know each other well.’ He begins to feel warm and his heart picks up pace at those words. The other’s eyes stay on his face, so unable to ignore it any longer, he finally shifts his gaze to the boy. ‘So, what do you want me to call you?’ 

There it is. That tone of voice, that smile that is leaning dangerously towards being more of a smirk and Doyoung feels like he’s back to those times, back to those days when he just started teaching at that school, young and unexperienced but optimistic and prepared.

 And well-prepared he was. For his role as a teacher, for being an example to follow for those young people, for sharing his knowledge as best as he can with so many awaiting eyes on him. 

He couldn’t know, he wasn’t prepared, that amongst these mostly curious, some bored and some indifferent, waiting for the day to finally end, adolescents, was one boy that was wanting, was hoping for something more than mathematic formulas and equations from his lips.

Staying after class,  _officially_ , Jeno was asking Mr. Kim to explain the lesson again because he didn’t fully understand but  _really,_  he was just naively waiting for something he was too afraid to ask for, too shy to even begin to suggest it to the older man. Something so outrageous and wrong that he couldn’t even ponder too much about it without his heart racing and his cheeks coloring a vibrant shade of pink. 

All he  _could_  do was stare into his teacher’s warm brown eyes instead of the paper with numbers and letters written in neat handwriting in front of him, the long and detailed explanations from his favorite instructor still flying way over his head...

And Doyoung knew.

Of course, he did, but that didn’t change anything, not even in the very end when his dearest, smartest student was graduating and he might never see him again. It couldn’t change anything because he had _a code_ , rules that he swore to comply against. He knew Jeno wanted from him more than he could give and regardless whether he wanted it too or not, he would never do it. He made that promise even more so to himself than to the high educational institutions that created those said rules. 

Jeno was his pupil and Doyoung was his tutor. Feelings got pushed aside because feelings come and go and rules, morale and the responsibility of a teacher, of a  _role-model_  towards a student, remain. 

Yet, Kim Doyoung is just a man. He has weaknesses, he isn’t perfect. 

He’s had times when Jeno’s smile, those pink full lips lifted in joy along with those perfectly shaped crescents of his eyes, were almost enough to bend the iron bars of his patience, of his strong will. The icy walls he’s built around his heart to protect himself from Jeno’s charms, melting down incredibly fast at the mere sight of the other boy in distress, tears sliding down those smooth pale cheeks. 

*3 Years Ago*

‘Jeno?’ He lifts up his head from the test he was marking, hearing a tiny sniffle and a deep sigh from his student. ‘Are you crying?’ He walks over to the desk at the front of the room where Jeno is solving the equations he’s given him for practice or at least that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, Doyoung thinks to himself, seeing an almost blank paper in front of the other.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb, I know you’re busy.’ He wipes his eyes quickly, picking up the pen and focusing on his work again. 

Doyoung just grabs another chair and sits right next to him, unable to leave the boy in this condition to himself. He slowly takes the pen from Jeno’s slightly trembling fingers and sets it down. In the otherwise silent room, the boy’s ragged breaths, that he tries to even out and fails, are breaking Doyoung’s heart into tiny pieces. 

‘What happened?’ He asks his student softly but the other is stubbornly looking down. ‘Are you worried about the upcoming exam?’ He tries, desperately hoping that’s all it is. He sees a small nod and doesn’t think much before continuing. ‘I know it’s a lot of stress, you’re graduating soon and the exams are nearly all at once but you can do it, Jeno. You always work so hard.’ 

A deep breath. ‘I know. I’m just panicking.’ He whispers and looks at the older. Doyoung can’t look away. Not for the first time but this time it’s different somehow; he has the urge to wipe the tears away himself, to do something, anything to make the boy feel better. 

‘You’ll be fine.’ 

‘I will.’ It feels like he’s talking to himself. Doyoung is about to get up and go back to his work when new, fresh wave of tears appears in Jeno’s eyes and soon they’re like two tiny rivers down his face and this time he doesn’t do anything to stop them. 

‘Jeno...’ the taller begins but he doesn’t know what to say. Of course, he should know it’s not just about the exams. He was just selfishly trying to make it easier for himself.

He waits for a moment but he suddenly can’t take it anymore, he can’t just sit and watch as the crystal droplets fall down from his cheeks and hit the desk. He leans in and cups Jeno’s face in his warm, large hands. He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath from the boy, doesn’t miss the way the pupils in his chocolate-colored eyes dilate. 

He wipes the tears gently with his thumbs, then with his whole palms pressed lightly to the warm, soft cheeks. He brushes the wet lower lip with his index finger next, forgetting where he is for a moment, letting himself imagine that he’s allowed to do this and that he’s not crossing any lines. 

The elder wakes only when Jeno places his own smaller hand on top of his. He moves away, clears his throat, tries to regain his composure... 

‘I’m sorry.’ Jeno speaks first, his voice is shaky and nervous. 

Doyoung shakes his head. ‘No, it’s me who’s sorry. Please, forget what just happened... I don’t know what came over me.’ He runs a hand through his jet-black hair, messing it up slightly. He doesn’t sound as panicked as he really is. 

The younger just smiles at him lightly though. ‘It’s okay, sir, don’t worry about that at all.’ 

Mr. Kim looks at his student with wide eyes but then nods slowly. Jeno’s not crying anymore, he can’t hide the sparks in his glossy eyes either. Doyoung stands up from the chair and walks back to his own desk with million thoughts in his mind and red alarm bells ringing somewhere at the very back of his brain. 

*

‘Mr. Kim?’ 

He looks at his student, takes in the slightly too long hair that screams for a haircut yet looks so adorable on him. ‘Yes, Jeno?’ 

‘Have you ever been in love?’ He doesn’t expect the question but he’s not shocked by it either. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry and his mind only comes up with images of the boy that is currently staring right at him, awaiting an answer. 

‘Love? I... I mean-.’ He tries, he really tries. ‘Maybe. That’s a very personal question, Jeno and I don’t think it’ll help you with those math problems right now.’ Doyoung finally replies. He dodges the question because the answer, if he were to go with the truth that is, would change everything and bring about unnecessary struggle and pain. 

The boy chuckles. He stands up and approaches his teacher’s desk slowly, smirking. ‘I already finished everything.’ He places the sheet of paper with all completed answers in front of the older man. ‘I was just wondering because I _have_.’ He states slowly, carefully, leaning against the wooden desk with his hip. ‘In fact, I am in love right now.’ 

He listens patiently, never breaking the eye contact with his student but gripping the red pen in his hand just a little too tight. ‘In love already? At such young age?’ He carries the conversation on, pretends to be clueless. 

‘I’m eighteen already, seonsaeng-nim, I will be an adult soon.’ He stresses his age, tries to show him he’s not a child anymore. ‘You’re young too, sir. I just wondered... but you’re right, it’s a very personal question.’ 

‘I’m twenty-five, Jeno. Seven years is a big difference, I have much more experience than you and trust me, it may often feel like love but it doesn’t always mean it is.’ He too, stresses his age; he tries to subtly remind him that they can’t, that it’s not right. Tries to exaggerate everything, convince Jeno that what he feels is not love. 

‘I see.’ He looks down, the tiny smile that was on his face seconds ago disappears completely. He moves away from the desk but stops after a few short steps. 

‘Mr. Kim?’

‘Yes?’

Jeno turns around, backpack in his left hand and he’s biting his lower lip, nervously. ‘Just once. One time. I won’t tell anyone and you won’t either.’ He speaks fast, rushing his words, panic creeping in between the unsteady syllables.

Doyoung stands up abruptly and comes around his desk, ready to refuse, to reject him. He knows he has to. What the other is asking for is beyond wrong, beyond unethical, it’s... His heart is jumping crazily in his chest. 

‘Please, only once.’ He’s begging now, desperate and Doyoung grows weak, so weak in front of him.

‘What are you asking for, Jeno?’ He asks, he risks it; the empty classroom where he sees the boy and his other students every day, where he tries so hard to focus only on the lesson material that he has to deliver and now suddenly he’s in this situation that somehow feels like a long time coming and he’s just asking, softly asking, not rejecting him like he knows he should. 

Jeno drops his backpack to the floor where he stands and comes closer. Doyoung looks at him, unsure, waiting, prepared for the worst. 

‘A kiss. Just one.’ As soon as it leaves his lips, a relieved breath leaves Doyoung’s mouth too. It sounds so innocent, so _Jeno_ , so pure. He looks incredibly young yet sure of what he wants and mature too and the older finally allows himself to realize, to acknowledge that he is, despite everything, very much in love with his student, Lee Jeno. 

Despite the huge efforts that he consciously, so carefully, put into convincing himself he feels nothing for the boy, he finally gives in. He doesn’t care what he’s risking, doesn’t care that it might have consequences, doesn’t care that he’s let himself melt for the younger – the very thing he tried so hard to avoid. 

So, he moves closer, takes the other’s hands in his, whispers ‘Just one,’ into the small space between them, briefly watches the shock and disbelief paint itself on Jeno’s gentle features and finally kisses him. 

He presses his mouth to the other’s warm, slightly parted in surprise lips, then begins to move it slowly. Jeno kisses him back after two seconds of delay and there are no words to describe how it feels. _Incredible_  comes close, so does _breathtaking,_  but both are not quite close enough. 

They pull away after a few, long seconds yet it seems the shortest time of Doyoung’s life. 

‘You’re fucking amazing.’ Jeno is a little breathless but the happiness vibrates through his voice.

It’s the first time he’s heard his student swear in front of him. ‘Language.’ he reprimands out of a habit but it sounds weak, automatic. 

The younger rolls his eyes. ‘Fine, you’re  _freaking_  amazing _._ ’ He corrects himself, adding the appropriate honorifics to his speech, then suddenly gets more serious. ‘You have no idea how in love I am with you.’ 

He couldn’t know it back then but that sentence will haunt Doyoung long after his student graduates. 

He doesn’t say it back. ‘You know I can’t.’ He says instead.

‘I know.’  

*End of Flashback*

Everything’s different now. 

They’re different but memories remain. Slight bitterness and regret on Doyoung’s part but they’ve found each other again. After three years everything’s different except Jeno’s smile is still the same and Doyoung’s still as weak for it as ever. 

‘Hyung.’ He tries, watching the younger’s face for a reaction. ‘How about you call me hyung?’ 

Jeno nods enthusiastically. ‘That would be nice.’ Before he can reply anything, the younger is opening a door for him. ‘We’re here.’ 

The café is cozy and warm, a welcome relief from the cold Korean winter outside. They order coffee; it turns out they both like the exact same kind. 

‘I’ve always had a feeling we have a lot in common. That we are similar, you know.’ The waitress places the two cups of coffee in front of them with a pleasant smile before quickly disappearing to serve other people. Jeno moves his own cup closer to himself and slides the other cup right in front of Doyoung. ‘Like one soul split into two.’ 

The older puts his hands around the white cup to warm them. He can’t disagree. He’s thought the very same thing many a time before too; usually late at night when the bed seemed too empty and cold or in the early morning hours when taking the effort to make breakfast for just one person seemed like a completely pointless task. 

‘Something like soulmates?’ He dares to suggest, taking a sip of his hot drink to conceal his nerves. 

Jeno copies him and when he sets the cup back down, he smiles, looking the taller directly into the eyes for a long moment. ‘Something like that.’ He says.

It’s waking again. That feeling in Doyoung’s chest. That something that has never quite disappeared but since their last meeting was seemingly asleep, hibernating like an animal waiting for spring to come. 

He looks away from the warm gaze which reminds him of the sun; it’s warming his skin and blinding his eyes. Jeno did that to him from the very start. Truly, nothing has changed. 

‘It’s been a while, Jeno, tell me what have you been doing all that time.’ He wants to burn, he wants come close to the sun and bathe in its warm rays, feel them dance on his bare skin but it’s happening too fast, he needs something to calm his crazy heart. 

Instead, he watches Jeno nod happily, watches as he opens his adorable lips and begins his story. He listens to that voice, similar yet different now, mature now and drinks in every word. 

Jeno tells him that he studied human biology at university but recently changed his major to English language, tells him that he wants to travel. Briefly mentions all the part-time jobs he’s had and how hard it’s been for him; mentions Jaemin too, his ex-boyfriend and Doyoung thinks the self-help book might be a small piece that fits into the story but doesn’t ask. 

In return he tells his ex-student that he still teaches at the same school, that he’s moved to a different apartment though, closer to his workplace so the journey each morning isn’t killing him anymore like it used to; encouraged by the other’s honesty, he mentions Taeyong and how much of a disaster that relationship was, then Jaehyun who adored him, loved him so much but Doyoung just couldn’t bring himself to return the feeling, no matter how much he tried. 

Jeno too, listens patiently, doesn’t dare to interrupt. Simply nods with sympathy, even when Doyoung talks about his past relationships, like he knows exactly how the older feels. Perhaps he does. 

They just talk, forget where they are until the same, petite waitress asks if they would like to order anything else. Only then Doyoung realizes their cups have long been empty and the world on the other side of the large window is getting dark. They don’t order anything else and after Doyoung pays for their drinks, they leave the café. 

‘You didn’t have to pay for me, hyung.’ 

He sighs, getting used to the sound of the new title with mix of excitement and hope, his breath turning into a white cloud in front of him until it disappears a second later. ‘I wanted to.’ He glances at the shorter and sees a smile on his lips. He looks so handsome in the winter weather; his hair, peeking out from under the black woolen hat, dyed dark brown now, complimenting his fair complexion. ‘Are you perhaps hungry, Jeno?’ He suddenly blurts out, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. 

The younger stops too and looks at him with unsure, surprised eyes. He looks around. ‘I don’t think any restaurants will be open today and especially at this hour, hyung...’

It’s true, nothing is open right now. It’s New Year’s Day. ‘I could make something for us at my place...’ he starts but then realizes how it sounds out loud and he really doesn’t want it to seem that way, God no, so he apologizes quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested that. I didn’t... I mean I never meant to-’

‘I know what you meant.’ Jeno ends his suffering. He smiles and puts his hands in his jacket pockets. 

‘I meant – just for food and I’ll drive you back home before it gets too late.’ He clarifies just in case. 

Jeno chuckles. ‘Just for food. I would love to go.’ He agrees and they start walking. ‘You’re really adorable, hyung. Now that you’re not my teacher anymore, I can say it in public without getting punished.’ 

Doyoung smiles shyly at the compliment. ‘As if I would ever punish you.’ He replies in a light tone. 

‘You wouldn’t?’ 

The black-haired man shrugs his shoulders. ‘No.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘Unless you did something really bad.’ 

There is a moment of silence. ‘Something like... ask my math teacher to bend me over his desk and fuck me into oblivion?’ 

Doyoung stops immediately to look at him, mouth opening in shock but Jeno just smirks at his facial expression, unbothered. 

‘C’mon, don’t act like that’s not what you were thinking.’ They start to walk again, slower this time though. ‘That time when I asked you to kiss me.’ 

Doyoung shakes his head in resignation but can’t disagree. ‘Ah, Jeno-yah...’ He bites his lower lip, cheeks burning but the younger just laughs, that sweet melodic laughter.

Soon they’re both laughing like they’ve gone insane and people walking by, give them weird stares but they don’t care. 

***

As soon as he hits the light switch, the living room comes alive in front of their eyes. Doyoung takes off his scarf and jacket but Jeno just stands there for a moment taking everything in, looking around. 

‘You can hang your jacket here.’ The older points to the coat hooks on the wall by the entrance and only then Jeno begins to unzip his black padded jacket. 

‘I’ve always wondered what your apartment looks like. Based on your personality, I imagined something in my head...’ he trails off, taking off his outerwear and hanging it right next to Doyoung’s grey coat. 

The taller is in the joined kitchen area, already pulling out pans from the cupboards and food from the fridge. ‘Is it just like you imagined?’

‘Pretty similar but I didn’t expect these many living plants.’ Doyoung looks to where Jeno is delicately brushing a particularly large philodendron’s leaf with his fingertips. 

He comes closer, smiling at the image of his favorite house plant and favorite person right next to each other. ‘I like greenery. One day I want to have so many that my house turns into a forest.’ He’s only half-joking. That’s the first time he shares the idea with anyone though, he realizes.

A beautiful smile blooms on Jeno’s face. ‘That sounds amazing.’ When Doyoung is returning to the kitchen, the younger suddenly asks. ‘But why is it crying?’ 

The black-haired man scrunches his brows in confusion. ‘Crying?’ He turns to the boy again. ‘Ah, you mean drops of water hanging at the tips of the leaves... It’s called transpiration – the plant is naturally getting rid of the excess moisture in its system.’ Doyoung explains and marvels at the curious look on the other’s face. ‘It seems I watered it too much recently.’ 

Jeno stares at the graceful drops of water like crystals or tears, that seem like they’re about to fall down but stay perfectly in place, in child-like wonder. 

‘What would you like to eat?’ 

He comes closer and sits at the kitchen bar, opposite his hyung to be able to watch him cook. ‘I’m fine with anything.’ He sighs heavily. ‘I’m useless at cooking, so I respect anyone who can make even the simplest meal.’ 

Doyoung thinks back to the two brown paper bags with their books from the library placed on top of the coffee table in the living room. ‘Did you hope to teach yourself to make something using those cookbooks?’ He asks casually. 

‘Yeah. Ever since Jaemin dumped me, I’ve been back to cup ramyeon and as good as cup ramyeon is, it doesn’t taste that great anymore once you’ve had a home-made breakfast and dinner every day for over a year.’ 

Doyoung cuts the onions on the chopping board in front of him carefully, listening to the other talk. On purpose or not, he’s answered a few questions the elder has had on his mind but didn’t dare to ask. But now since Jeno doesn’t seem to mind talking about his ex-boyfriend that much, he gathers his courage to prod further. 

‘How did you and Jaemin meet? If you don’t mind me asking.’ 

There is a long pause and he begins to think that maybe the younger does in fact mind him asking, when suddenly there is a voice right next to his ear. 

‘At university, really boring.’ Doyoung almost jumps and glances at Jeno who is right next to him; the shorter boy has picked up a wooden spatula and is lazily mixing the vegetables that are frying in the pan, or rather poking at them without any idea of what he’s doing. ‘He was in the same class as me; stood out from day one.’ A short laughter. ‘Pink hair, awfully flirty and loud. Not my type at all.’ He stops bothering the innocent vegetables and moves a step away, leaning against the counter. 

‘But he was smart and I needed help with studying so, one day I asked him. He agreed, we became friends. It turned out, in addition to being incredibly smart, he cooked well too, and kissed well too - that was more like my type.’ Jeno glances at Doyoung who avoids his gaze but he understands the subtle meaning behind the other’s words. ‘After two years, he got bored though. He’s dating some guy called Renjun now. Jaemin says he likes him because he’s witty and smart and fun...’ Jeno’s voice gets quieter as he continues. 

Doyoung looks up at him from his work, eyebrows slightly raised. ‘And in his opinion, you’re not?’ 

The shorter smiles sadly, looking at the purple floor tiles. ‘It seems so.’ 

The taller snorts at that then shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. ‘I guess he’s not that smart, after all.’ Doyoung adds the onions to the pan, they sizzle deliciously. ‘Would you pass me a bowl from the top cupboard, the pink one?’ 

The brown-haired boy nods and soon hands the object to his hyung. Doyoung notices his cheeks are matching the color of the bowl in his hands. 

‘My parents hated Jaemin, anyway. They were ecstatic when we broke up, said I should find someone more mature, down to earth.’ He muses and Doyoung nods absentmindedly, trying not to show how happy that statement makes him even though he knows very little of Jeno’s parents. 

After a long moment of standing there and watching his hyung cook, Jeno decides to sit on top of the counter. He bites his lip, hesitant when the other glances at him briefly. 

‘Is this okay?’

‘Sure, but you’ll probably be more comfortable on a chair or the sofa...’ he says but actually really, secretly likes the sight of the younger boy like this in his kitchen; he could get used to this sight. He could get used to the sight of Jeno every day, in all different parts of his house, he thinks. 

Jeno shakes his head. ‘I’m fine here. Maybe I’ll finally learn to cook, watching you, hyung.’ 

‘You would have to come here often, for that to happen.’ 

‘Is that an invitation?’ 

‘Maybe.’ 

It’s silent except the sounds of frying from the pan on the stove. They both listen to it like to the most entrancing melody. 

Jeno occupies his hands, playing with a red plastic spatula he picked up from the counter. ‘You know, you don’t have to be so careful with everything you say to me.’ He whispers. ‘Yes, it was three, long years ago and I was young but when I told you that I’m in love with you, I meant it and although I loved Jaemin in some way that was enough to be with him for so long, I was only ever in love  _once_. With you. I still am.’ He sighs looking down at the red utensil. ‘When I saw you in the library today, I realized just how much I am still in love with you even now.’ 

‘Jeno...’ he comes closer, his heart is beating so fast, listening to the confession. 

The same boy as three years ago, the same words but they’re not in school anymore, they’re both adults now, the barriers that held them apart are gone. 

Now it’s just them and whatever they want to do, whoever they want to be, not whoever they should be in the eyes of the society and the law. They’re just Doyoung and Jeno; not a teacher and a student, not an adult and an underaged boy, either. 

‘I know you liked me, back then, I mean. You wouldn’t do what you did if you didn’t like me. You wouldn’t kiss me just because I asked you to.’ Jeno takes a deep, shaky breath. ‘That was then but now? Did you go with me to the café and brought me to your home out of mere platonic sympathy, out of sentiment of what was between us?’ 

_No, of course not,_ he wants to reply but hesitates. He doesn’t want to rush it, this time he wants to do it right because now he can say what he truly feels not what he  _has to_  say. 

That thought that now he can do it, that the universe or God or anything else it might be, has brought them together again, so they can have another chance to start over is overwhelming, it’s making him dizzy. 

‘You’re right, I liked you back then and didn’t want to tell you that because I didn’t want to hurt you like that and now...’ he places his hands on the other’s knees and stands close but still at a distance. ‘...everything’s still the same. My feelings haven’t changed since then.’ He watches the relief of the other’s face, watches the nerves dissipate a little and he’s so glad and he’s so stupidly happy he doesn’t have to reject him against his will this time. 

Jeno grabs his waist and pulls him closer, between his own spread apart knees as he’s still sitting on the kitchen counter and wraps his legs around Doyoung’s waist with that smile on his lips. That smile that stole the elder’s heart ever since the first time he saw him. The smile that reaches his beautiful eyes and lights up not only his face but the whole world around him. 

Doyoung holds the other’s face in his hands just like that time at the school, in that empty classroom where anyone could walk in at any time but God was protecting them, was protecting that little something that was already blooming like a tiny flower between them and thankfully nobody did walk in then. 

Neither that time or the other time when they kissed. And this time when Doyoung leans in, unable to take his gaze away from the younger’s lips, they’re truly alone, in the safety of his apartment and they don’t need to be afraid of anything anymore. 

They kiss slow and loving under the golden glow of the kitchen’s chandelier, the smell of delicious food, of a  _happy home_ , in the air around them and it’s  _good_. 

It’s  _allowed._

It’s the love, the feeling that didn’t change from the start and the happiness they had to wait for, hope for. 

‘I couldn’t say it then, I’m sorry it took three years for you to hear it,’ Doyoung whispers as they pull away, ‘but at last now, I’m in love with you too, Jeno. So, so in love.’ 

_Love is_ _patient_ _..._

The way Jeno is looking at him right now reminds him of how he looked at him on the day of his graduation. He was bright and sweet as always, the deep sadness and regret he hid so well behind his smile. He thanked Doyoung politely, honestly, for all he taught him – in mathematics and way beyond that. Jeno didn’t hold anything against him, didn’t make it seem like he felt that his confession was rejected. 

He knew they couldn’t be together back then and took it with that maturity and grown-up acceptance that separated him from all the other students in Doyoung’s class from day one. 

_Love is_ _kind_ _..._

‘Finally.’ With a deep, calm exhale, the younger whispers into his shoulder as they hug and Doyoung knows exactly what he means. 

Each day waking up to go to work but never looking forward to seeing anyone particular there, despite all the smart students in his classes and all the other teachers he called close friends. Coming home each evening to a perfectly nice house, filled with all his favorite things but something was always missing. Two, incredibly handsome and completely nice guys he’s dated but something always didn’t feel right; it was love but a different kind, not the one he was waiting for. 

‘Finally.’

With time, precious time, it all falls into the right place. So, live and wait and hope because if it’s _right_  and if it’s _good_ and if it’s  _meant to be_ , it’ll happen. Now, tomorrow or someday.


End file.
